


take you for a ride

by crownedSerpent09



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biker Gang AU, Blow Jobs, M/M, Okay maybe some plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, cai xukun is a tease, the other kids are mostly there for the bants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedSerpent09/pseuds/crownedSerpent09
Summary: Xukun and Ziyi are in (not exactly rivaling) biker gangs. They fuck.





	take you for a ride

When Xukun arrives at their usual bar at half past 9, Yanchen is grinning in a way that spells out trouble. That grin spoke of wild ideas, half-genius and half-insane, ideas that usually end up with them on the road again, speeding away at the speed of light from the blue and red lights that flashed behind them. Still, it was that grin that drew Xukun to their dysfunctional little group a few months ago, when he was still the new kid in town, hands still a little soft and the ends of his tailpipe uncuffed.

“So I was thinking,” Yanchen starts, launching right into it once the last member of their gang has arrived.

“That’s never a good sign,” Zhengting snarks. None of them are fooled. The corners of his mouth are already pushing up in a fond smile, and his presence here tonight despite his refusal of official membership in the gang is evidence enough of his affection for the speaker.

Yanchen grasps the fabric of his shirt over his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Zhu Zhu. In any case, you’ll all be thanking me soon enough. I… ” He pauses here, waiting for everyone’s full attention. Xukun eyes the bartender out of the corner of his eyes instead, wondering if he should order a drink before inevitably launching into whatever scheme Yanchen just came up with. “I’m taking you all to the Luxuria tonight!”

Zhou Rui snorts, beer spewing all over their table in spouts. He evidently, _was_ smart enough to start drinking already. “Yeah, right. There’s no way we mere mortals are getting into the Luxuria. Maybe in Heaven.”

Ling Chao plays with the wrist buckle of his gloves, ready to move on from the conversation. “Should we order something now? Something light for Yanchen too, since he’s obviously out of his mind.”

Yanchen sneers amidst Zhenghao and Jeffrey’s guffaws. “Shut up kid, you’re not even old enough to drink.”

Ling Chao quirks a brow a him. “On whose authority? My ID’s?” He dangles the offending rectangle in front of Yanchen’s face, prompting the latter to flick it back into his own face. Xukun finally allows his amusement to show at Ling Chao’s subsequent spluttering.

“Gents, buddies, mates, don’t you trust me? Tell me, have I ever steered you wrong?”

Zhengting eyes him with a critical eye. “Don’t tell me you actually have a plan?”

“Of course I do.” A server approaches their table, but Yanchen waves him away. “And it’s foolproof.”

“Let’s go,” Xukun speaks up.

“Wh— Are you serious?” Zhou Rui demands.

Xukun shrugs. “Yeah, I mean we can keep discussing this but we’re all going to do what he wants to do in the end.”

As the group collectively pull themselves out of their seats, Zhengting grumbles, “I forgot how everyone in your gang is whipped for Yanchen,” like he isn’t the worst among them.

The line to the Luxuria wraps all the way around the building, but does not extend around the block. The famed exclusivity of the club discourages the majority of the masses from even trying to get in without being on the guest list, but it doesn’t prevent the usual band of avid fans from hanging around the premises anyway, aspiring to catch a glimpse of the actual guests and hoping against hope that some mistake in the universe lands them inside the nightclub. Xukun is the first to pull up to the club, Zhengting and Yanchen following closely on either side of him. Once they’re on the street in front of the club, Yanchen takes a sharp turn, sliding to a smooth stop in an alley adjacent to the building. The rest of the gang follow, with Zhou Rui bringing up the rear. They can hear his effusive curses as he fights to control the balance of his bike on the sharp turn, Zhou Rui always having had less of a natural affinity for motorcycling as the rest of the gang.

“Alright, gang.” Yanchen’s teeth are a flash of white in the dark setting. “We all here?”

“Let’s go,” Jeffrey says, the excitement of being so close to the Luxuria settling in. Xukun is feeling it too, gooseflesh rising under his blue velour jacket as he looks out at the front edifice of the club, milling with well-dressed and attractive men and women, the glint of jewelry and scattering of neon lighting up the scene.

“One moment,” Yanchen says and turns to back to his bike. He takes something out of the side pocket and thrusts it into Xukun’s hands.

“What’s this?” Zhengting asks.

“It’s a mesh shirt!” Zhenghao says from Xukun’s side. Xukun looks over to see Zhenghao taking the black material out of his hands and holding it aloft for everyone to see.

“Put it on,” Yanchen says to Xukun blithely, heedless to Xukun’s perplexity.

Zhengting shoots Yanchen a suspicious look. “How exactly are you going to get us into the club again?”

“Yeah, what’s happening?” Xukun adds.

“Well, you see, there’s this guy from the Rolling Souls, who basically own this place, who I heard will allow anyone and their friends in if that person catches their eye. So I asked around, and what would you know! Our very own Kunkun happens to be _exactly_ his type.”

“So you’re pimping me out to get us into a nightclub,” Xukun deadpans. Yanchen nods, utterly shameless.

“Wait, who’s this guy that you’re pimping Xukun out to?” Zhou Rui asks.

“He’s called Wang Ziyi.”

“Wang Ziyi?!” Ling Chao and Jeffrey regurgitate at the same time. But with like, shock and horror.

“You realize if this goes badly, Wang Ziyi and the Rolling Souls could have you guys off the streets for the rest of your life?” Zhengting contributes.

“Okay, yes I know but!!!! The risk will only make the reward more worthwhile!” Yanchen has his thousand megawatt grin on again, and Xukun knows it’s a lost cause.

“Fine, whatever.” Xukun shrugs off his jacket. “Zhou Rui did say the Luxuria was the stuff dreams were made of, and whatnot.”

“But—” Zhengting’s hands fly to land on Xukun’s, stopping them at the hem of his shirt. “Xukun, you love biking.”

Xukun shoots Zhengting a wide grin of his own. “Aw, Zhu Zhu, don’t you believe in my seduction capabilities?”

Zhou Rui’s gaze flicks to Xukun’s neck, the wide collar of his shirt exposing both collarbones. He swallows. “He’ll be fine, Zhengting.”

Zhengting frowns and remains so as everyone watches Xukun change his shirt and put his jacket back on. Then, as if possessed by some brilliant idea, he swivels back to his own bike and takes something out of the pocket.

“Wear this, too,” he says to Xukun, clasping the strip of black material around his neck.

“You own a choker?” Yanchen asks, voice slightly strangled. Zhengting simply winks.

“So here’s the plan,” Yanchen announces when he can finally speak properly. “We park our bikes in the lot, in full view of the entrance. The Rolling Souls usually arrive around midnight, so we’ll be lounging around with Kunkun looking like a full-course meal in plain sight once Wang Ziyi walks by. Then, it’s up to you, Kun, to do the rest.”

“Sounds good,” Ling Chao affirms.

“You only say that because I’ll be doing everything,” Xukun says with an eyeroll. Nonetheless, he steps up to his bike to get ready to ride into the lot. Zhenghao’s following statement, however, is cut off by the rev of engines that grows in decibel by the second. The group turns to see a group of 6 motorbikes, large and black in the darkness, speeding up the street.

“Oh no, they’re early,” Jeffrey says.

Xukun throws himself onto his bike, twisting the key in the ignition to breathe life into his own engine. In a second, he’s speeding back down the way he came and taking the sharp turn onto the main road, pulling up directly next to one of the riders.

The Rolling Soul looks over at him, surprise evident on his face. Xukun allows one (1) cocky grin to surface before accelerating past the Rolling Soul and pulling smoothly into the lot of the Luxuria, ahead of the pack.

Xukun vaguely senses his own gang appearing all around him as he comes down from his adrenaline high, shakily braking and turning off the engine. He hasn’t had time to pull on his gloves, so the imprint of the handlebars are stamped firmly across his palms. His ragged breaths sound too loudly in the still night air.

“That was some skill out there,” someone says, right in front of him.

Xukun looks up to the face of the Rolling Soul from before, taking in the sharp angles and the jagged line shaved into the side of his hair. Perhaps the adrenaline still hasn’t left his veins, but Xukun found the man inescapably attractive. What’s more, he’s looking at Xukun with pointed intent, eyes flicking from Xukun’s face to his chest to the legs that straddle the seat of his motorbike.

When Xukun fails to answer after some seconds, the man speaks up again. “I haven’t seen you around here before. I mean, this city.”

Xukun smiles. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

“No way.” The man lets out a little laugh. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of Xukun. “I would have remembered you.”

Xukun lets his smile grow but purposefully remains silent.

“Can I get your name?” the man asks. He is leaning over Xukun’s handlebars now, as if the course of their conversation also involved a gradual decrease in the proximity between them.

“You first,” Xukun teases.

“I’m Wang Ziyi,” he says. Xukun’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? Heard of me?”

“Not at all,” Xukun replies disinterestedly. “Cai Xukun.”

“Pleasure.” Ziyi has a hand on top of Xukun’s handlebars now, their bare forearms a breath away from each other.

Xukun holds eye contact for one more moment, reveling in the molten heat creeping down his body as a result. Then, he forcefully looks to the side, meeting Yanchen’s eyes, brimming with preemptive triumph. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Ziyi, but we have to get going now.”

“What?” Ziyi replies too quickly. “Aren’t you going to come inside?”

“Oh no,” Xukun gives a short laugh, “ _we_ ’re not on the guest list.” His hand goes to his key in the ignition.

“Wait,” Ziyi says, drawing himself into his ample stature and catching Xukun’s eyes with a meaningful look. “But of course you are.”

Xukun holds his gaze for a moment, before letting out a soft exhale. “Thank you.” Xukun’s smile in softer, more genuine, and Ziyi seems captivated by the sight.

From behind Ziyi, someone clears his throat loudly. Ziyi looks over his shoulder, where a guy with dreadlocks is gesturing at their bikes, still parked in the middle of the pathway. Ziyi nods in understanding. “I’ll catch you inside,” he says, giving Xukun one last scorching look before leaving with the rest of his gang.

In the ensuing silence, Xukun’s gang members are beaming brighter than the neon sign announcing the nightclub’s name to the world.

“Kun, you’re a god,” Yanchen says, reaching over to twist one of Xukun’s nipples. Xukun doesn’t even bother to swat his hand away.

 

Upon entering the Luxuria, Xukun feels himself being transported to a new world, one full of excess and immoral pleasure, the abandonment of inhibitions a mark of its inhabitants. There are lights, and too much sound, and the distant scent of fruit lingering in the air, a suggestion of spring clarity amongst the intensity of the club activities. As his gang sweeps through the floor and gathers at a white-topped table, and the drinks begin to cover every inch of the surface, Xukun has to concede that the nightclub lived up to expectation.

With the alcohol-induced thrum of adrenaline newly pumping through his veins, Xukun allows his eyes to glide over the dance floor, past the thrashing, writhing figures that twisted in and out, feeling the compulsion to join them. Zhengting seems to have the same thought as him, as he takes Xukun’s wrist in one hand and Yanchen’s in another and pull them both towards the throng. Xukun gets only a glimpse of Zhengting’s teeth, barred in a gleaming grin before a human curtain shuts them out from his view. Unfazed, Xukun throws his head back and loses himself in the music.

He’s moving his hips, hands tracing up his neck to find themselves in the air, eyes either closed or rendered blind by the flash of lights above. He feels the pressure of the heels of his boots on the his bottoms of his feet, the twist of his calves as he moves his feet along with the beat. He feels hands touching him—his chest, arms, hips—but they never linger long, their owners moving along with the sea of people to land on the next person. He drowns himself in the thickness of the atmosphere, in the inescapable frenzy, with all of his senses heightened beyond logical thought.

Then, set of hands settle themselves on the curves of his hips, different than the ones before. These hands were grounding; they pull him back from the insanity of the atmosphere to the firm earth and make him experience reality as it is. Xukun opens his eyes when a hot breath blows over the back of his exposed neck, Wang Ziyi’s voice reaching him through the blaring of the nightclub speakers.

“You’re a very good dancer.” It’s a simple statement. Xukun’s received compliments far more poetic and thought-provoking, but this one causes him to flush. Xukun turns around in Ziyi’s arms, a retort ready on his lips, but Ziyi cuts in, “But I’m better.”

And then he pulls away, and like magic, the crowd melts back until it’s only the two of them in the center of the floor, Wang Ziyi’s eyes boring into Xukun’s with the same intensity as their first encounter just outside. Before Xukun can react, Ziyi is throwing his weight back, landing only on the palms of his hands and popping his legs straight up into the air, only to bring them down to slide across the floor in a complicated footwork routine. He then places his palms against the floor in the shape of a triangle and lifts himself up, twisting in a series of upside-down spins.

It is a challenge, and Xukun never turns down a challenge. He allows the music to infect him again, driving his arms out, pounding them in time with the the beat, end with a breaking motion over one knee. His footwork is more focused, more purposeful than the rhythmic stepping this-way-and-that earlier, his arms and torso twisting and stretching to their full length. Ziyi’s eyes remain on his the entire time, and he holds the Rolling Soul’s gaze as his hand travels down the front of his body as his hips roll into the air, daring the other to break eye contact in order to follow his hand. Rather than taking the bait, Ziyi moves onto his next routine.

They battle for what seems like hours, until Xukun is going into a particularly aggressive move that involves challenging Ziyi directly in front of him, when Ziyi suddenly latches onto Xukun’s waist and pulls him against himself. The heat of his palms is just as intense as his gaze, and Xukun feels it even through his thick jacket. He holds Ziyi’s gaze, glaring his challenge, but Ziyi doesn’t let go and refuses to move forward. Realizing what he must do, Xukun places a hand on the nape of Ziyi’s neck and pulls him down to meet his lips.

Ziyi’s lips are dry but surprisingly soft, and they quickly become slick with saliva as they slide along Xukun. He kisses like he’s hungry, drawing Xukun closer with every inhale, tongue probing past Xukun’s lips and searching, exploring. Xukun bites down on Ziyi’s bottom lip in response, drawing a low moan that vibrates against Xukun’s mouth. Vaguely, Xukun senses the people around them losing interest and moving back to fill the space in the center of the dance floor again, resuming their revelries with no more regard for the two.

Xukun breaks off first to exhale a “Let’s get out of here” to Ziyi, and the latter releases Xukun’s waist to clasp a hand around Xukun’s wrist and pull him deeper into the dark club. Xukun, still disoriented from the kiss and the lights, follows along without question. Ziyi leads through a side door that opens into a sort of stairwell, which they descend to get to a gray-walled room.

Xukun has to blink a few times before he gets his bearings. The room is lit by fluorescent lights that seem too bright after the darkness of the club. It seems to be a parking garage of some sorts, large enough to keep seven or eight motorbikes and a few ratty couches lining the sides of the room. Looking at the posters on the walls and the type of bikes parked there, Xukun realizes that this must be a Rolling Soul hangout.

“We shouldn’t be bothered here for at least a few more hours,” Ziyi says from behind Xukun. Xukun turns around to see him push the door to the stairwell closed. “There’s no lock, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine,” Xukun says. He cocks his head to one said, smirking. “As you said, we have at least a few hours.”

There’s a pregnant pause as Ziyi looks at him, eyes boring into Xukun’s soul, before he surges forward again. Xukun contemplates giving him what he wants right away but then realizes that he can make his little game last just a bit longer. Xukun side-steps, swivels around to face the motorbikes, and walks away form Ziyi.

“I’m a little curious,” he muses, approaching the bike Ziyi was riding earlier that night. All the motorbikes were the same make and model, differentiated only by the personalized designs painted on the sides. Xukun zeroes in on an inscription on one of Ziyi’s handlebars, the twisting letters spelling out “BOOGIE.” “What does this mean?”

“It’s nothing,” Ziyi says. His voice, which has insofar been absolutely calm and collected, begins betraying his frustration. He stops next to where Xukun stands, fingers tracing along the letters even as he sends Ziyi a heated gaze. “Just a sort of street name of sorts? I don’t really use it anymore.”

“Ah.” Xukun nods in understanding. His fingers haven’t stopped tracing the letters, and Ziyi is starting at them intensely. They fall into another silence, before Xukun punctures it again. “I’ve always wanted to try out a bike like this one. You mind?”

Ziyi acquiesces, and Xukun swings a leg over the seat and straddles the bike. He leans forward to grip the handlebars, marveling at the smooth leather and sleek metal. He shifts his hips as if he’s trying to get comfortable, inadvertently grinding into the seat.

“Okay,” Ziyi cuts in, “That’s enough.”

Xukun makes to get off the bike, but Ziyi stops him, pulling the front of Xukun’s shirt so that their lips crash together.

This time, it’s far messier, far _filthier_ than it was on the dance floor. Tongues and teeth clashed in a fierce battle for dominance. Ziyi’s hands move from Xukun’s chest to his shoulders, pushing the jacket off of them. They go to grip Xukun’s parted thighs as Xukun strips himself of the velour and then Ziyi’s leather jacket, tugging at the lapels until it falls to one side of the bike. Ziyi breaks the kiss so that he can pull his T-shirt off, giving Xukun time to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, freeing his hardening dick.

Ziyi scoops Xukun into his arms, lifting him off the motorbike as he traces a path along Xukun’s jaw and down Xukun’s neck. Xukun moans as he locks his ankles behind Ziyi, feeling solid cement against his back as Ziyi pushes him against the wall next to the bikes. The wall gives Ziyi enough leverage to roll his hips against Xukun’s eliciting more sounds from the younger.

“Please,” Xukun mumbles.

“Please what?” Ziyi returns, fingers pressing into Xukun’s hips in a way that made his head spin.

“Fuck me,” Xukun says.

Ziyi hums, tracing a path down Xukun’s chest with one finger, stopping to tease a nipple. He smirks when Xukun shudders in response, hips rolling up to rut against Ziyi’s. “I think I’ll take my damn time,” Ziyi growls into Xukun’s ear. “I think you can wait a little after teasing me all night, you minx.” Then he drops to his knees, pushing Xukun’s jeans down and swallowing his cock in one fell swoop.

Xukun throws his head back, feeling the breath being knocked out of his lungs. The blowjob is sloppy, but Ziyi’s tongue creates a firm pressure along the underside of Xukun’s dick, and he hollows his cheeks to take Xukun in farther. Xukun reflexively tries to buck his hips up, but Ziyi’s hands keep him in place, thumb pressing into the front of his hips and fingers digging into the soft flesh of his ass. Xukun is unable to do anything but pant out Ziyi’s name in little gasps as Ziyi flicks his tongue across Xukun’s slit, drawing another prolonged moan from the younger.

Xukun feels his orgasm building up, so his hands fly from where they were pressed against the wall to grip onto Ziyi’s shoulders. “Wait,” Xukun says. There’s a popping sound as Ziyi pulls off his dick. “I want to come with you inside me.”

Even on his knees in front of Xukun, Ziyi’s gaze was unrelenting. “You want that, huh? Beg for it.”

Xukun swallows, his pride warring with his need to come. His dick wins. “Please, Ziyi. I need your cock in me  _now_ —”

Ziyi surges up, twists Xukun around, and bends him over his motorbike. The pale flesh of Xukun’s ass is presented to him now, as well as the pink pucker Xukun’s hole. Xukun hears the crinkle of foil as Ziyi opens a packet of lube, and then a blunt, slippery force is pressing against his hole.

Ziyi holds Xukun’s asscheeks open with one hand as the other massages around his rim, teasing the pucker. Ziyi watches Xukun’s hole twitch in response and the other pleading for him to hurry. He finally dips a lubed finger in, watching as the pink muscle gives way to swallow his finger whole.

By the time Ziyi has three fingers inside of Xukun, scissoring and spreading Xukun apart, the younger has given up on any coherent noises. When Ziyi deems him ready to take something bigger, he slides his fingers out, watching Xukun’s hole close around nothing as he pulls out his cock and rolls a condom over it. He ignores Xukun’s “Hurry the fuck up, oh my god, _Ziyi please_ ” to dribble the last of the lube onto his cock, spreading it around before aligning the tip with Xukun’s hole.

He presses in slowly, and by the time he bottoms out Xukun feels so full he’s seeing stars. Ziyi is bigger than he expected, and when he pulls out and thrusts in for the first time the drag of his cock against Xukun’s walls is delicious. He sets a slow, tortuous pace, and it isn’t long before Xukun is urging him to harder, faster, _harder_ , and the motorbike under them is shaking on its stand with the force of Ziyi’s thrusts. Ziyi goes on until Xukun cries out, louder than he was before, as Ziyi hits his prostate dead-on. Hearing this, Ziyi aims for the same spot, pounding into his prostate with every thrust. Xukun’s precome is making a mess of the buttery leather of Ziyi’s seat, his cock sliding across the surface every time Ziyi’s hips snap into his.

“I’m close,” Xukun moans. Ziyi’s hand reaches around him, and at the first touch of Ziyi’s warm hand on Xukun’s cock, his mind drowns in the white noise of his orgasm and his load shoots out to splatter all across the plush leather.

Ziyi groans into Xukun’s ear, his hole tightening around Ziyi as he comes and drawing out Ziyi’s own orgasm. Ziyi’s last few thrusts are sloppy as he comes into the condom, and he finally stutters to a stop after he shoots his own load.

Ziyi pulls out, and Xukun leans against the motorbike as he pulls up his jeans. He waits for feeling to return to the lower half of his body as Ziyi redresses himself.

Ziyi picks up both their jackets from the floor, handing Xukun’s to him. “Thanks,” says Xukun. “I’m sorry about your seat,” he adds, gesturing to the mess.

“It’s fine,” Ziyi says. “Nothing a few wipes can’t fix.”

“Cool,” Xukun says. His eyes flick up to the digital clock over the stairwell door, the blue LED announcing the very late hour. He glances back to see Ziyi looking at him, gaze softer than it has been all night. Xukun’s breath catches at its warmness, an overwhelming expression of comfort and fondness that catches him off-guard. “I should get going,” he says, reverting his eyes quickly.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“No need.” Xukun pushes off from the motorbike, making his way to the door with slightly shaky legs. He looks back over one shoulder. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Maybe.” Ziyi is giving him a small smile, and Xukun dies inwardly as he tries not to get caught by it. “It’s a small city, after all.”

“I look forward to it” is Xukun’s last remark before he slides through the door and enters into the neon fray, once again.


End file.
